Thursday morning we took a day trip to Macon, GA. Our tour started inauspiciously as the visitors’ center is in a part of town that is 2/3 abandoned and slightly scary. The buildings, while attractive, are mostly boarded up, like this one:
Then while I was unloading the dogs, Angus launched himself out of the car but caught his front leg in the seatbelt, so he somersaulted out the back door and hung suspended from the seatbelt by his leg, howling. Once I untangled him he seemed unhurt, so we persisted. Just up the street is a beautiful Catholic church
St. Joseph’s Catholic Church
and the home of the South’s surgeon general during the Civil War.
The remainder of our tour included a number of beautiful antebellum homes and a park containing memorials to folks who fought in WWI and WWII. We didn’t spend too long in Macon. When we first arrived I was a little uncomfortable walking around by myself, but perhaps I was a little reassured when I met Curt Fletcher, Homicide, who told me they have only had 3 murders so far this year.
I didn’t pack a lunch that day because I figured I would find somewhere interesting to eat in Macon, but I didn’t. I was famished as we drove out of town and the small towns between Macon and the Lake Sinclair campground offer limited cuisine, but I found what appeared to be a locally popular restaurant serving food to go and ordered an oyster po’ boy. The fries were fat and crinkly and the oysters were perfectly crunchy. I ate the whole thing and it served me for both lunch and dinner.
After getting back to camp I diagnosed my lighting problem (merely a loose wire) and then settled in for a pleasant afternoon reading. That night I had my first campfire, but it was short-lived. See my haircut? When I was in Blacksburg I got to see Kevin, who is the only stylist I really like going to see. This situation is rather inconvenient when I am living in NoVa.
That’s Lucy in the background, flouting the leash rules